


Only Reason

by deanisbiandsoami



Series: Why? JUst why did I come up with this? [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: A little More Comfort, AU, Cas is amazing, Cutting, Dean and Cas are orphans, Depression, Human AU, I really don't know how I came up with this, It's still not fluffy tho, Kissing, M/M, More Hurt, Self Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, and Dean's finally happy, it hurts, so happy end I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-01 03:07:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanisbiandsoami/pseuds/deanisbiandsoami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - Dean loses his parents and his little brother in a fire when he's fourteen. How will he ever even try to be happy again?</p><p>Mature because Self-harm and that aint for teens (- said the teen that wrote it)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You saved my Life

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS NOT FLUFF IT'S ALL WELL IN THE END BUT IT'S NOT FLUFFY

Dean was the perfect boy. He was kind and smart. He tried his best in school - resulting in really good grades. He was popular. It was simply hard to not like him and it was heartwarming how he looked after his little broter.

His life was simply perfect until he was fourteen. That was when everything began to crumble. He was at a friends house when it happened. Something caused a fire in his home. The fire killed his whole family and from one day to the other, he had nothing. No brother, no parents, no home.

Dean came into a foster home and had to change school. He didn't talk for two months... he just stared; stared at the white wall of his empty, grey room in the foster home. There were two beds in the room, each with a nightstand and a desk, but Dean was alone.

He went to school, but that was all he did. He didn't do homework or assignments. As soon as he got back to the forster home he'd just sit there and look at the wall. 

Dean was in that state for years, somewhere along he'd started talking... only when teachers asked him or when someone at the foster home wanted to talk to him - what rarely happened. Noone knew just how bad his condition was. Noone knew about the razor blade he'd stolen from one of the older kids and noone knew about the scars all over his arms and thighs. 

He was pulled of that state of simply not caring about anything but distraction from his thoughts when he got a new roommate. It was three years after the fire when the Novaks arrived. They were three brothers the eldest was his age - Castiel - Gabriel was a year younger and Balthazar was only seven. 

"Hello." Castiel chimed as he entered the room, smiling at Dean. He heaved a suitcase on the bed opposite to Dean's. Dean wasn't paying him much attention. "I'm Castiel." He said, his voice was deep and rough. Dean noticed a movement and looked up. Castiel was holding out a hand towards him. Dean looked at the hand.

"Dean." He said and turned back to staring at nothing, leaning against the wall.

"Are you knew, too?" Castiel asked, looking around the empty room.

"Came here three years ago." Dean answered courtly.

"Well, obviously, I just got here..." Castiel continued talking, not caring that Dean wasn't intrested in the slightest. "My brothers and me got here from-" Dean stopped listening.

"You mind if I put up a few posters?" He asked after a few minutes.

"No." Dean replied. 

"So why are you here?" Castiel asked, sitting down on the bed, facing Dean. Dean didn't answer.

"My parents died long ago... I can barely remember them. My older brothers just left..." The guy just keept on talking. "I was really mad at them for a while but I figured that it wasn't that bad after all... I mean the at least we always have enough to eat and a roof over our heads... they don't have much money either..."

"I don't ca-" Dean finally looked up and was overwhelmed. Castiel had incredibly blue eyes, watching him with an intrest he hadn't seen in years. He was pretty... no he was handsome. His had a slim figure but Dean could make out outlines of muslces under his white t shirt. 

"What did you say?" Castiel asked, tilting his head. Dean's stomach fluttered. 

"I... nothing." Dean muttered and tried to avert his eyes but he just couldn't get away from Castiel's piercing stare.

"So why are you here... I mean if you want to tell me?" Castiel asked.

"I'm... my parents and little brother died in a fire three years ago..." Dean answered. Why was he even telling him that? He didn't even know the kid.

"Oh... sorry." Castiel said. "That's tough. At least I've got my brothers." 

"Yeah... it sucks big hairy balls... but so does that your brothers just abandomned you..." Dean said. 

"I know, but they don't have enough money to care about us... especially Balthazar." Castiel explained.

"They should try to make the money... my dad was a mechanic and we barely had enough money. They still got me pretty much everything I wanted... and Sammy too... it's just selfish of your brothers." Dean almost ranted "Sorry." He added as he noticed that he'd insulted Cas's family - or what was left of it.

"It's okay, Dean." Cas smiled.

The next few weeks Dean was slowly getting better. He still missed his family and wanted nothing more than to be in the arms of his mother, but talking to Castiel helped. He understood and never questioned why Dean didn't like to talk about his family. 

"Cas?" Dean asked some day after dinner in their rooms. "Why are you always so happy?" 

"I don't know... I haven't always been like this. I've been like you - sorry - I've been depressed - sorry again - but some day I just realised that it doesn't do anyone any good. I'm trying to cope and not really remembering my parents helps... also I've had to look out for my little brothers the last two years. I just started smiling..." Cas explained. Dean thought about that.

"How?" He asked. "How do you start smiling?" Cas looked at him - making his insides going all fluttery.

"I thought What would my parents want? I'm certain they wouldn't want me to be sad... and I don't think that yours would too." Cas said. Dean ran through his hair.

"I can't stop..." Dean said. "I've been running away from feelings and pain for years... how am I supposed to face that?" Dean felt tears sting behind his eyes... he hadn't felt the urge to cry for years. Cas must have noticed because he stood up and crossed the room, sitting down next to Dean.

"I don't know, Dean... just try." He said, putting a hand to Dean's knee. 

"Can I... Can I tell you somthing?" Dean asked, looking at Cas.

"Of course, Dean." He answered. Dean looked down in his lap and started pulling the sleeves of his flannel shirt up, revealing the scars.

"Dean..." Cas gasped. 

"I started three months after the fire... when I couldn't bare thinking anymore... and when I cut, it's like every thought is gone. It's only pain... but pain that I can control and when it stops... it's warm and everything is soft, no thoughts and just the absence of pain." Dean explained. "I can't stop." He repeated. Cas's eyes ran over Dean's arms, getting caught on a cut almost up to his elbow. It was still red. Cas lightly touched the cut and Dean let out a whine.

"When?" Cas asked. 

"Five days." Dean said, his voice barely a whisper.

"Why?" Cas asked. Dean avoided his eyes, blushing.

"I couldn't stop thinking... about you." Dean said and then looked up at Cas. "I thought... that I may be in love with you and that-" Dean was cut off by Cas's lips on his, a hand flying up to his jaw, keeping him in place.

"I think I might be in love, too." Cas whispered. Dean pressed his foreheads together, hands resting on the back of Cas's neck, playing with the black curls. They just stayed like that for a few minutes.

"Don't cut, please." Cas said. Dean smiled. Suddenly he pulled back.

"Cas... I smiled!" he exclaimed.

"You are smiling" Cas remarked.

"I haven't smiled in three years." Dean almost shouted in excitement. "Not really." 

"Good... then get back here and kiss me, you beautiful fool." Cas said. 

Dean was getting better with every day. He even started doing homework. It was hard to understand school. He was smart, yes, but three years of barely listening wasn't good. Cas was helping him, explaining what he didn't understand. So soon Dean was back to good grades, not just enough to not fail.

Dean had stopped cutting; that one cut he'd made when he couldn't stop thinking about Castiel was his last.

Until saturday November 20th. Castiel had spent the morning and noon with his brothers, playing out side, having fun in the first snow of the year. His heart almost stopped when he entered his room, seeing Dean, leaning against the wall, his head resting in his hands while blood ran down both of his arms. Then Castiel saw the picturees and broke glas on the floor, on piece of glas next to Dean on the bed. 

"Dean!" He shouted, hurrying over to his nightstand and pulling out two clean towels, he'd gotten from the kitchen a few months ago. Then he knelt on the bed in front of Dean and grabbed his arm, bandaging the cuts as good as he could - with only two towels.

"It didn't stop..." Dean wept, falling into Cas's arms. Castiel had never seen him crying.

"What didn't stop?" Cas asked, holding him tight.

"I couldn't stop thinking... Cas, I forgot..." Dean sobbed into Cas's chest.

"It's okay, Dean... calm down-" Cas started.

"It's not okay!" Dean shouted, pulling back. "I forgot them! I forgot the anniversary!" 

"Dean..." Cas started.

"No, Cas." Dean shouted. "This is your fault... I forgot them because of you!" He shouted and pulled his arms from Cas's hands.

"You didn't forget them, Dean. Maybe you didn't think about it on the anniversary of that goddamn fire but that's a good thing! You shouldn't remember that day, you should remember the years before that. Think about them on their birthdays, on thanksgiving, on chirstmas... thinking about them has to make you happy, even if it hurts at first." Castiel tried. "Now let me fix your arms." He leant over to Dean's nightstand and opened the drawers searching for bandages, he found them in the bottom drawer. 

When he turned back to Dean, he'd extended one arm. Cas looked at his arm, he saw three cuts. He tried to clean off as much blood as possible and then bandaged the cuts. When he was done he leant down and kissed the bandage. He bandaged Dean's other arm.

When he was done, Dean pulled him into his arms.

"Thank you." Dean said. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean. 

"No problem." He answered, kissing Dean's shoulder. 

"I'm sorry..." Dean said. 

"For what?" Cas asked, pulling back to look at him.

"For blaming you... for shouting at you, for cutting." Dean said, looking down into his lap. "I know it's wrong... I just, I couldn't stop thinking and... I did this..." Dean looked at the broken pictures on the floor. Cas took a closer look and saw that it were the pictures of them. 

"It's okay, Dean." Cas assured. Dean took his hands. 

"No, it's not. You saved me... I was..." Dean's voice broke. "You saved my life, Cas." 

"Dean...that's not true..." Cas said. 

"It is, Cas." Dean said bending over and pulling a folded piece of paper and giving it to Cas. He opened it. It was Dean's handwriting, dated the day he got to the foster home.

Whoever is reading this,  
I'm Dean. You might never have seen me, or you have and just didn't notice me. Just so someone knows, I've been thinking about this for years... I've been thinking 'Who would even care? Who would miss me?'

"Dean!" Cas gasped.

"Read on, Cas." Dean said.

Noone. I've got noone, you could say that's my fault because I shut everybody out... but they were just lying, saying they'd understand. Noone really cared. They didn't even notice.  
So they won't notice when I'm gone, right? My parents and my baby brother died three years ago. I just want to see them again. 

"Dean..." Cas said, looking up from the letter, stroking over the date. "That was the day I got here." 

"I told you, you saved my life." Dean said. "I had given up and then there you were... and you cared. You, Cas, are the only reason I live for." He looked down on the piece of paper. "I love you." He whispered. Cas downright attacked him, pressing him down on the bed and kissing him senseless.

"I love you, too." He said against Dean's lips.


	2. Samulet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Sam's birthday and Dean feels like he should do something

With every day that Dean spent time with Cas, he got better. With every day he remembered his parents and brother with a little less pain.

It took him over five years to actually be happy, to not constantly feel as if a part of his soul was missing. He was whole again. He was twenty two and had a job in the garage his father had worked in. He was still in love with cars and with every minute he spent in the garage he felt a little closer to his dad. He was smiling a lot, knowing that once he stopped smiling he couldn't start again. Cas was studying a half day car drive away so he visited him almost every weekend. Dean was content with it. He still didn't quite understand what Cas had seen in him back then when he was basically just a silent mess of fear and pain. He didn't understand why Cas cared.

It was Friday and Cas would arive from college soon but still Dean wasn't waiting at home for him because it wasn't just any Friday. It was Sam's birthday.

Dean would normally stand under a big tree opposite to the graveyard gate and he'd stare at the iron gate until he was sure he wouldn't walk past it. It went like this every year. He had only once visited the graves where their ashes were buried and that was when they'd been put up. 

The thing was Dean had started remembering… not only their faces or birthdays but actual everyday live and he'd remembered his father telling them the stories his father told him before. Of ghosts and how they stayed in this world sometimes, locked to the place of their death. This doesn't sound like a story you' tell your children but when Dad told them he made it sound like a fairytale. That the ghosts would be saved and finally get their rest.

So now Dean was sitting in his car infront of what was the rest of their house. It had never been rebuilt… He took a deep breath.

"For Sammy." He whispered to himself and got out of the car. He kept his head down at first still not quite ready to look at the house. He'd never been here. Bobby - the co-owner of the garage - had looked for something that survived the fire, finding nothing. Now he was clutching the little angel in one hand. He'd framed the pictures though they were still lying in the back of his cupboard. He had them out for about half a week until he couldn't look at them. 

Dean took a deep breath and looked up. He winced. You could still see that there had been two storeys and a garage. On a few little spots the walls still were yellow. It looked like a corpse, you could imagine how it must have looked with live in it. 

Dean walked up the path to the remains of the front door. The door was leaning against the wall inside. He guessed it had been placed there when insurance looked for things that still were whole. Dean stroke over the burnt wood of the doorway, his fingertips turning black. He looked down the hallway, the frames of the pictures were on the floor, the glass broken and only a few spots of the pictures left. He could see the '1st' of what must have been Sam's spelling contest certificate. He'd one it when he was only eight years old… Mum had been so proud. The walls were black and nothing gave away that they'd been blue once, noone could've guessed that the floor had been light wooden planks once. Dean walked into the remains of the kitchen. They never found out what started the fire but it must've been an accident. Dean had repeated the reports often enough in his head to know that this was were they found his mother. He swallowed and turned to walk into the living room. Some of the frames still were on the wall, the others broken and burnt on the ground. 

The whole house was depressing, but Dean walked through every room downstairs. He knew that it was dangerous to go up the stairs but the house was still standing after nine years, wasn't it? So it couldn't be that damaged. Dean walked into his old room first. He looked around the walls, where the poster of various cars had hung and the one of AC/DC. The frame of his bed was still there. That's when Dean got the idea. He got down on his knees and pushed the bed to the side. The floor looked almost intact here. He lifted one of the wooded planks. And indeed that things down here had survived. He took the few pictures out. There was a picture of his parent's wedding, his father hugging his pregnant mother from behind, his father with Sammy on his arm - when Sam was alomst one year old - and one arm around his mother's shoulders, Sam and Dean sitting in the trunk of the Impala, Sam about five years old and on Dean's lap, grabbing at Dad who'd been taking the photo and one of the four of them. Next to the pictures was a little figure of an angel and the amulet Sam had given him as a Christmas present when he was only six years old saying he mustn't tell anybody because Bobby gave it to him to give to John. Dean had smiled and ruffled his hair, tucking the amulet under his t-shirt. 

Dean smiled, putting the amulet around his neck and standing up, still holding the pictures. He crossed the hallway and walked into Sam's room. 

"Well," He said softly. "I suppose if you hear me anywhere it's here." He sat down on Sam's bed, the frame damaged even less than in his room. "I miss you Sammy, I really do." He looked around the room and felt tears sting in his eyes.

"You'd be twenty one today… I suppose you know that. You'd be studying at some fancy college and Mum would call you every two days asking when you'd visit us at home… you'd become a lawyer or a doctor or something like that… you were always so bright. Dad would be incredibly proud though he wouldn't always say it. But then he would brag with his genius of a son. And we would fix cars together and come home to Mom baking pie just like it always was. And then you'd come home over the hollidays and we'd all have the best time… I would hug you and tell you how much I missed you…" Dean closed his eyes imagining their living room lit up by a christmas tree.

"I never told you, did I? How much I love you? I always just shrugged it off and told you you're my brother of course I love you… I love you more than anything, Sammy. If I could only swap our places… hell, I'd do it without a second thought. I never stopped loving you…" Dean blinked a few tears away.

"I didn't visit your graves. I though it would hurt too much, all those memories… you know what? I was right… it hurts like mad. I just want to hear you at least once again… I want to see you, Sammy. I feel like I'm further away from you than ever…" Now tears were rolling down Dean's cheek. "All those years it was just one cut… a few seconds and I'd be with you. Now… I feel like I'm losing you again, I can remember, of course, but it's not like I could be with you in a few seconds… I mean I could but I don't think I'd do this… I'm too happy to end it… there, I'm happy, Sam. I'm happy working in the garage and I'm happy having Cas… and I feel freaking guilty for being happy… it feels like I'm forgetting you. Like I'm betraying you and mom and dad if I'm happy… and it hurts." Dean laughed shortly "It hurts to be happy…" He buried his face in his hands, elbows on his knees.

"I miss you so goddamn much, Sammy…" Dean felt tears run down his arms. He shuddered and stood up, looking around the room once more before he went back to the impala, sliding behind the wheel.  
His hand clutched the amulet resting against his chest and then all the memories came crushing over him. Most of them happy but then there were the few fights with his father, the day of the fire and the months after that. 

Soon he was curled up on the seat, knees pressed to his chest and tears falling uncontrollably. He was sobbing. When he tried to remember happy days to stop crying his brain just went back to the fire and he was left sobbing harder. His hand clutched around the amulet and the pictures in his jeans pocket felt hotter with every breath he sucked in between sobs.

He couldn't stop and it was as if all the tears he never cried in the first three years came out. 

Dean heard his phone ring more than once but he wasn't able to pick up. He wasn't able to change his position.

It was a it after sunset when he felt the cold draft of the opening door and then he was pulled into a hug from the passenger seat.

"Dean…" Cas whispered against his hair. "It's okay, baby." He felt Cas's hands rubbing over his back and his lips pressed against his temple. His muscles relaxed and his hand let go of the amulet, wrapping around Cas's neck instead. Dean melted into him and he felt better, almost whole.

When his tears dried out he pulled Cas into a kiss.

"Hello." Dean mumbled. He felt Cas's lips curl into a smile. 

"Hey, Dean." He answered. Dean pulled back and looked at Cas. He still looked quite worried. Dean smiled at him.

 

Ten minutes later they were back in Dean's flat. 

"So… why were you there?" Cas asked as they were sitting on his couch. Dean laid down on his lap, feet dangling off the other side.

"Today is Sam's twenty-first birthday." Dean explained. "And I felt like I should talk to him… where could he hear me better?" dean absentmindedly fiddled the amulet.

"Did you find this?" Cas asked, touching the little golden head. Dean nodded.

"Sam gave it to me for Christmas… I hid it under the floor under my bed… along with those." Dean pulled the pictures out of his pocket. Cas looked at them.

"You look happy…" Cas said. Dean smiled up at him.

"I was." He propped himself up on his elbows, face mere inches from Cas's "I am." He added and streched up to kiss him. Cas pulled him onto his lap completly, deppening the kiss.

"I love you." He mumbled against his lips. Dean moved one leg on either side of Cas's hips.

"I love you too." He answered. "And I've missed you." 

Cas pushed him back a little to look at him.

"Are you okay?" He asked. Looking right into Dean's eyes. 

"I'm good… it hurt but I'm good." Dean said. Cas nodded.

"It's good that you've been there… it's helping you deal with it." He answered.

"I know… it's just… it was hard to make myself go. I don't think I can take another step soon… or I'd lose myself again… and I'm not sure I could take that…" Dean explained. Cas framed his face.

"It's okay, love. You don't have to…" He soothed. Dean rested his forehead against Cas's closing his eyes.

"It just hurts to let go… I always felt so close to Sam because there was nothing in my life distracting me from thoughts about him and mom and dad and what I've lost… now there's you and there's work… I have a life now but with every step towards my old self I make one step away from him…" Cas wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him closer.

"Noone and nothing can take away your memories and noone can change the way you feel about him." He said. Dean smiled and kissed him again.

"Thank you, Cas… for putting up with me." Dean said.

 

This night Dean didn't have nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if the years fit so don't judge me... there was quite a long time between writng the two chapters... I don't know... I'm not quite comfortable with this work... maybe I'll edit it later... but anyway thanks for reading :33


End file.
